


Let My Home Be My Gallows

by Emono



Series: Monsters-R-Us [4]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Blood and Gore, Bloodplay, Cannibalism, Characters are creatures, Dom/sub, Domestic Fluff, Emono Does Halloween Right, Feeding Kink, Fluff and Smut, Halloween, Husbands, M/M, Might make you squeamish, Monsters, Prostitution, Psychoteeth, Rimming, Shameless Smut, cannibal!Geoff, cannibal!Ryan, dark characters, hellhound!Michael
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-20 00:54:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2409158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emono/pseuds/Emono
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Those with feathers and horns and tails and webbed fingers tried their best to get along with the humans, to be accepted and to belong. The real threat came from those who already belonged.</p><p>Death came with beatific smiles and worn out jeans.</p><p>-</p><p>Geoff and Ryan are a handsome, normal couple. They own a house, they share meals, they have fantastic sex, and they hunt together. Their kind didn't often take mates but when they did it was a match made in hell. But they're getting on in years, and they need a pet. And they may find it in Michael, an abused hellhound pup that doesn't know his own potential.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not As Young As I Used To Be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chooboozle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chooboozle/gifts).



 

 

 

**[can·ni·bal](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ujCwMA3w1k)**

 

 

 

_ˈkanəb(ə)l_ /

 

 

 

_noun_

 1. a person who eats the flesh of other human beings.

2\. an animal that feeds on flesh of its own species.

 

~~~

 

Monsters came in all forms. Matching the human population, they had bred into a vast variety of filth upon the earth. Werewolves and vampires, Slenders and fairies, witches and mermaids – all more humanoid and terrifying than the last. The human were torn between acceptance and living in pure fear. They were prey to the more bloodthirsty lot. People feared what they didn't understand, what was different. They had no idea of who their true threat was, of who the _real_ killers were.

 

Those with feathers and horns and tails and webbed fingers tried their best to get along with the humans, to be accepted and to belong. The _real_ threat came from those who already belonged.

 

Death came with beatific smiles and worn out jeans.

 

Ryan was seamless. He could blend into any crowd, high or low. He had one of those faces – handsome, but forgettable. A tux or sweats, he could slip among a group without a second glance. His voice was smooth and deep and his silver tongue could talk you into handing over your wallet and showing your neck. He was selectively tactile and could have you _aching_ from just a hand on your shoulder. He had a chest you wanted to snuggle into and beautifully soft facial hair that you craved to feel on the inside of your thigh. He was a velvet wrapped wolf, a smooth operator who worked like a well-oiled machine upon all those who spoke to him. His easy, deep laughter covered up the _swish_ of the web he weaved around his victims. A kiss on the hand, the motion of him tucking your hair behind your ear, the graze of his lips on your cheek...and you were lost. A real rose with razor thorns.

 

Geoff was different in his style. He was laid back, his sleepy gaze drawing people in like honey and the casual drawl of his voice keeping them there. His body language was so open – spread legs, thrown out arms, the snake-like way he cocked his head. Maybe it was the facial hair that through off his victims but it was like they completely dropped their guard around the man. Geoff was disgustingly good at hooking them with stories of his tattoos or the pure silver rings in his ears. He would hold out his hand to show off the ink on his fingers and once they were close enough he'd whisper in their ear, give them a line about going to find some fun somewhere else.

  
While Ryan liked to seek out his prey, Geoff let the prey come to him.

 

They truly looked like everyone else. They had jobs, they had families – to the rest of the world, human or monster, they were a normal pair of human husbands who loved each other very much. Anyone who saw them together could speak for it in the way they saw Ryan kiss the other's hand and whisper lovingly into his ear, in the way that Geoff smiled and let the man open his door and rub his shoulders when he was stressed. Though Ryan was more prone to express it, they both fawned over one another. Their matching onyx rings were brilliant in the light and sat well against their pale skin. The perfect example of a normal, middle-age human marriage.

 

Unregistered, unmonitored, and unleashed freely upon the world.

 

~~

 

The harsh, panting breath of their latest victim broke the hushed silence of the night. A young hitchhiker named Nick, a boy with barely twenty years under his belt, tore past the under-pruned ash trees that had lined the dark highway. He broke past them and nearly fell in relief when he saw the wide field that led to a nearby farm. The boy crouched down behind a bale of hay and dry heaved onto the rough ground. The sight of his girlfriend, Charlie, with lifeless eyes had burned itself into his mind. Pure bile leaked onto the grass and he shuddered violently, eyes rolling back into his head for a moment before he managed to get his vision back.

 

The night was warm and welcoming, just as the two strangers had been when they'd offered them a ride. Charlie had been so relieved. They'd been walking for hours, running away from home, but he'd gladly go back to his alcoholic mom if it meant getting away the freaks that had dragged their claws across his girlfriend's jugular.

 

They had been humans – what the fuck had happened?

 

Nick picked his head up, eyes going painfully wide as he heard the quick sounds of two sets of feet. Quick and scraping through the brush, and then not at all. The barely-there skitter was more terrifying than the loud stalking. The boy stood up but he didn't have to look around. There they were, a pair of them, standing at the line of the trees with their noses in the air. They had been completely human getting out of their car, smiling and offering help, but now he could see them for what they really were.

 

The whites of their eyes had gone bloody, shining in the moonlight, pupils blown and seeping into the scarlet pools. They had grown paler and somehow taller, shoulders no longer hunched in casual posture, more muscle lacing up their calves and across their chests. Unnaturally long fingers flexed to show off the new points of their claws. Their cheek bones had sharpened, deepened. They stood proud together, shoulder to shoulder, lips drawn back to reveal a mouths full of sharp, pearly white fangs that had _not_ been there before. They had transformed or something. Nick had seen hundreds of different monsters in his lifetime, read about even more, but he had no idea what they were.

 

Two sets of those unnatural, gleaming eyes settled on him and his stomach bottomed out.

 

They came at him so fast it made him breathless. Humans didn't move that fast, humans didn't make that soul-quivering growl that was rising through the air. Nick took off, the phantom feel of them at his back driving that last burst of flight-or-fight. He kept his eyes focused on the farm, picturing safety and other people with shotguns or some kind of big knife to drive into the hearts of these beasts.

 

Nick made it halfway across the field before a broad-palmed hand landed in his hair and fisted hard, yanking him back and nearly taking him off his feet. He grasped at air, watering eyes still clinging to the barn and the frail thought that he might get to it. A heavy arm coiled around his stomach and dragged him against the body of one of the men.

 

“I'm not going to hurt you.”

 

It was the voice of the blonde man that had shook Charlie's hand and had snuck a kiss onto it, making her laugh. But the tone was rougher now.

 

“Y-You're not?”

 

“I won't hurt you,” he repeated calmly, fingers still like steel along his ribs and in his hair. “I'm going to let you go. But you have to calm down.”

 

The moment Nick caught his breath and his heart rate started to slow, claws were dragged messily across his throat.

 

~~

 

The body thumped to the grass and writhed around for a few moments before the life truly left him. Ryan kicked the corpse over, exposing hitchhiker's slack face and the shining, leaking wounds gouged deep into the tan flesh of his throat. The ivory of bone stuck out rather starkly against the pink and red of his esophagus, the meat of his throat, the little mounds of his glands. A handsome lad he'd been, and quick too. He'd given them quite the run for their money. The girl hadn't been nearly as much trouble.

 

“I cannot deny that I love that last burst of glycogen that makes their muscles all nice and sweet, but the stench of fear – that blood vessel constriction?” Ryan rolled his shoulders, neck popping loudly. “I don't like the tension in the meat.”

 

“I like when they die afraid.”

 

“I know you do, love,” Ryan replied, walking around and eyeing the body. When he looked up his husband was already back in his human form, shedding his jacket and panting. He smiled sympathetically. Though the love of the hunt was burned deep into their blood, into their DNA, there was always the creep of age. Neither of them were spring chickens but his older lover had pushed the bump of forty. Going so hard as a teenager had worn him down early and lately he'd been slowly wearing down the past few years.

 

And now he looked tired from just a little sprint. Their kind was faster and stronger than humans, their skin tougher, and they had their true forms to slip into, but they did wear down. There were few cannibals who came out in the open. Most stayed in hiding, like they did, and covered up their kills. Some did it well, some not so well, but none as great or as intricately as the pair did. From the moment Ryan and Geoff had met they had stepped up their game, getting away with bigger and bigger hunts and stocking their many freezers with meat. And the tattooed man had high culinary skills beyond that of his younger lover, taking their food concoctions up to the next level.

 

“I'm getting too old for this,” Geoff bitched, rubbing his hip in the spot he'd grazed a tree running after the hitchhiker. “We should get a wolf or dog or something to do this chasing bullshit.”

 

Ryan snorted, the sound like ground gravel when passing through all his fangs. “You're just hungry.”

 

“No, Rye, I'm seriously getting too fucking old to be chasing down brats like this,” Geoff griped, plopping down beside the body as he kept massaging his aching hip. “They're not worth it.”

 

“We couldn't have let him go just because you didn't feel up to it,” Ryan scoffed, kneeling down beside him and laying his long fingers over the spot that was ailing his mate. “You'll heal faster once you eat.”

 

“I know, I know.” Geoff batted him off. He stared up into the younger man's eyes, two crimson pools with concerned brow pinching over them. He reached up and touched Ryan's steep jaw, golden stubble tickling the pad of his thumb. “You should've found someone younger to bond with. You're too young to be stuck to an old bone-muncher like me.”

 

“You're not that much older,” Ryan half-lied.

 

Geoff gave a long, weary sigh. “Handsome asshole like you? I don't know how I convinced you to marry me.”

 

The onyx rings on their fingers touched when Ryan cupped the man's hand and gently kissed it, nuzzling his cheek into the palm and leaving his scent behind. “Because you're my mate, and I'm yours. You bumped yourself, Geoff, don't let that set you back. Didn't the hunt feel good? Watching me rip him open...you usually adore that part, love.”

 

Ryan leaned forward and dropped kisses on his husband's cheek, trailing down to his neck. “Why don't we eat him here and save the girl for later? You can marinate some fresh meat and whip up something amazing for us tomorrow night. I promise you'll feel much better afterward. You always do.” He grinned against the other's quickening pulse. “I'll even let you have the cheeks. I know you love those.”

 

Geoff hummed and scratched his blunt nails across the man's nape, claws slowly lengthening and eyes changing as he slid back into his natural form. “You always know what to say, babe.”

 

They settled on either side of the dead hitchhiker and dug in, the body still hot though the wounds had stopped leaking. Claws shredded the boy's shirt and upper parts of his jeans. Neither had any interest in genitals or anything so base, but Ryan had a tendency to favor leg meat. Second only to organs.

 

“He was pretty,” Geoff hummed, finger flexing so hard they popped above the corpse's stomach. “Too bad.”

 

They dug in together, flesh giving way beneath their fingers with slick sounds. It peeled away easily and slipped between their greedy lips, fangs shredding every bite like it was nothing.

 

Geoff was a methodical eater in all ways. He used his claws to slice off nice, long slices of meat from the boy's arms and sucked them down with a moan. Soon he cleaned off an entire arm and worked up to the shoulders, cutting off squares to make easy-to-eat pieces. He dipped two fingers into the boy's soft cheek and scraped the hollow of the delicate bit of meat out into his palm.

 

Ryan kept an ironclad control on himself at every moment of the day. It was like he seized up his instincts and bundled them into forged bands that helped him really blend in to the natural crowd of his IT job. A time like this was his valve release. He was a passionate man underneath those cold layers, a monster built upon centuries of fury and darkness. And he was in his prime. His hunger had never been stronger, his craving to hunt just as high if not higher than it was in his teens. He was more savage in the way he sunk his fangs into the flesh and muscle, crimson splattering over his cheeks and across his chin as he shook his head to rip off large chunks from the lean thighs. He was messy in a way he couldn't be with prepared meat, tongue working joyfully across the web of veins and the smooth swell of muscle. The marks he left behind were messy and jagged, like an animal had left them, and he soon picked the thigh clean down to the bone. A meat of meat clung between the tibia and fibula. Ryan cracked them apart loudly and dug out the meat, sucking it noisily off his fingers before chewing the tibia clean. It broke with a clean _snap_. His tongue, soaked in blood and colored darkly in this form, darted out and insistently licked at the first spot of marrow. There was a dark joy in his eyes, a manic smile curling his lips as he tasted the deepest part of the human.

 

Geoff easily cracked open the hitchhiker's chest with a low hum. He dug a claw into each of his lungs, letting loose the past of the air trapped there. He mused over stuffing the organ with breading and shredded vegetables, broiling them. _No, that will burn them. They're so fragile._ He rubbed the organ between his fingers, frowning thoughtfully. He finished off the boy's other arm and felt his stomach bulging, hunger satiated. He lapped at his palm and fingers to soothe his coppery thirst.

 

Ryan's sudden, happy purr made him look up. His lovely, blood spattered mate was eyeing the open cavity with a renewed vigor. Geoff raised a brow as the younger creature moved in and dipped his face low, hands braced on the edges of the boy's ruined corpse for balance. All those fangs sunk into the smooth, slick muscle of their prey's heart. Iron-rich blood poured over his lips and down his gullet, the organ falling apart under the clamp of his jaw. A giant, wet _munch_ was taken out of the heart before he drew back. It was symbolic more than it was hunger. Ryan, for how sweet he could be, liked to ruin things when he was allowed the chance.

 

Geoff tilted his head back and took a big breath of the warm, summer night. It was a nice night – clear of clouds, clear of traffic or the buzz of the big city. He had a thought of moving out somewhere in the country where no one would bother them. Get a pet or something. _A kid, with Ryan's big blue eyes_. Geoff rubbed his full stomach and felt an achy pain in his heart. Cannibals were solo creatures by nature and he knew having a mate of his own species was rare and special, but he couldn't help but be selfish and wish for more. A little family. It didn't have to be a kid but he found with each passing year the need to love something other than his handsome husband grew. It was age, his biological clock, but that didn't make it any less true.

 

“Are you full?” Ryan's question was low, that sultry purr still laced deep into his voice. The younger cannibal raised up and peered at him with bottomless eyes, lips pulled into a smirk that showed off his fangs. It was a mix of posturing to show off his virility to his mate and Ryan's genuine lust for both him and the scent of a fresh kill. The bastard never got full like Geoff who all tired and drowsy after he'd filled up his stomach. Though solitary creatures, there was something truly intimate and sensual about sharing a meal like this. They often jumped one another after a hunt but seeing Geoff full was one of his husband's many darker kinks.

 

“You perv,” Geoff grinned, sliding back into his human form. It was dangerous to fuck in their true forms and he didn't feel like dealing with a bunch of scratches and bites. Ryan carelessly crawled through the remains of the corpse, jeans soaking up the congealing puddles of blood. Geoff grabbed his husband's chin and thumbed at his wet lower lip. “And put those away if you want to kiss me.”

 

Ryan whined, already up to his neck in all those animalistic instincts that drove them to do what they did. More monster than human – and he loved it. Geoff watched with unadulterated ardor as his husband's teeth shrank and became blunt once more, cheeks rounding into a rosy apple shape with a soft _crack_ , and the inky blackness of his eyes receded and the blue bloomed back. But there was still something inhuman within them, some soulless nature that was within all of their kind.

 

When they kissed it was as if they were breeding something alive between their lips, everything slick with blood and needy like a living thing. Ryan covered him and pinned him to the grass but always with a questioning strength, always gentle at first in case his husband would ever refuse him. Though Geoff was older and the more dominant of the two he preferred to let his mate do all the work, to allow him all the indulgence he craved. And the younger creature and returned that trust in full, taking care of him with all his energy and expertly leaving them satisfied without fail.

 

Ryan knelt over his lover's legs and pushed up his shirt, exposing the curve of his belly. Though their kind stayed fit throughout their lives in a lucky pull of genetics to keep their lifestyle, Geoff had managed to get a layer of softness that his husband enjoyed caressing and squeezing. He peppered kisses all along his tattooed stomach, moaning against the skin as he felt the tightness from how full he truly was. Ryan basked in knowing that he'd provided for his mate, that he made a kill and his mate's hunger had been soothed by it. He had given him nutrients and sustenance. Neither of them could have kids but if they could then he would have fed their young.

 

It was a bittersweet thought and Ryan smothered it with the lust he felt for the murder and his handsome, wise mate.

 

They stripped off their blood soaked clothes and tossed them aside, a couple spare sets for each of them in the trunk. Riding the high of slaking their truest hunger, they rutted against one another and grew hard, licking the red off their lips and cheeks with greedy enthusiasm. They were both hot from feeding, their skin and their libidos on flaming up and consuming them. And the younger cannibal's hand seemed to keep trailing back to his slightly distended stomach. Ryan's eyes were at half mast, lashes so gorgeously golden and doing nothing to hide the ravenous longing in his gaze.

 

“You wanna' fuck me, baby?” Geoff drawled lowly, pale thighs parting so his husband could settle more comfortably upon him. Ryan cooed against the bottom of his jaw, wanting it so much. The sound was endearing and he felt his heart melt all over again. He fisted his hand in blonde hair and urged him further down, Ryan following the touch obediently and kissing whatever he could reach. Geoff spread his legs farther, hooking a knee over his lover's shoulder and getting a happy chirp for it.

 

Ryan was so fucking gorgeous when he was blood stained and lost in his base emotions.

 

“Open me up with that pretty silver tongue of yours,” Geoff ordered, his husband starting to pant at the thought. “And be fucking quick about it. You have work early tomorrow.”

 

Ryan was so compliant like this – it was beautiful. He grabbed his ass with both big hands and lifted him up, eyes closed and grip tight while he swiped his tongue over the older man's ass. He was good with his mouth and he knew just how to get Geoff open with heavy licks and a few fingers. They had tough bodies that could take a lot of pain but he prided himself on causing the least amount of discomfort as possible.

 

Geoff rolled his head back on the grass and tried not to close his eyes so he could watch his husband's head shift between his thighs. Ryan's tongue was strong and sure against his rim, dipping inside and coaxing open the muscle like he was born for it. A finger slid along after a few moments, crooking inside and skimming across his spot until his hips starting rocking into it. That golden hair, that lovely look of concentration, the broad line of his shoulders...it was too good of a picture to miss. His devoted, lovely Ryan who always wanted him and would do anything for him.

 

He reached out and squelched his fingers through the cold, open shoulder of the hitchhiker. “Come up here and fuck me.”

 

Ryan picked his head up, frowning a little, pink-tinged saliva coating his chin as he pulled out only a single finger. “You're not ready.”

 

“I'll fucking tell you when I'm ready,” Geoff growled. “Fuck me now like you mean it. If I don't feel you tomorrow, I'll fuck you the moment you're home and you won't come until-”

 

Ryan surged up and kissed him, swallowing up his threat. Geoff's legs were hiked up around the other's hips and a blunt, wet head pressed against his ass. Too human, tiny canines flashed as Ryan snarled and started easing inside him. The older creature stared into his eyes, mouth falling open, bloody fingers skimming over his husband's cheek and into his hair. The crimson stripes looked like war paint and it made his cock leak against his soft, slightly curved stomach. And the thickness filling him up, the hot flesh dragging against his walls, the man forcing him open...

 

Ryan bottomed out. Any other man would've felt dominant and powerful but there was something soft that came upon the blonde's expression, teeth no longer showing off but biting down upon his lower lip. He butted his head up under Geoff's chin and made a sound like a purr, broad body covering him protectively. “Did I do well?”

 

Geoff gasped as he tried to adjust to his mate's cock, baring down on it until it was all he could feel. “Ah, babe, are you feeling – _fucking Jesus_ – all soft for me? You want me to tell you you did good?”

 

Ryan whined against his collarbone, hips slowly moving in a semi-dry grind. He pulled out, licked thickly across his palm, re-slicked his cock, and the push in was so much better. Geoff was staring at him that sleepy gaze and he wanted praise more than he wanted to get off, and he was _throbbing_. “Aren't you happy, Geoff?”

 

Geoff finally cracked a smile and wrapped his legs tights around his husband's waist, dragging him in close and steeling a kiss that tasted like musk and copper. “Motherfucker, I've never been happier. Now fuck me.”

 

Their rhythm was nice and quick, short jabs that dragged the head of his cock against his sweet spot. Geoff blinked up at the vast, starry sky and let out breathy moans that were matched with deeper ones from his mate. He wrapped an arm across Ryan's shoulders and held on for the ride, rubbing his wet cock against a fit stomach. The pressure on his full belly was better than he wanted to admit.

 

Ryan's usual stamina was shot with the taste of a kill all over his teeth and his mate rocking and pushing up against him with each thrust. Geoff smelled like dirt and dark liquor and old adrenaline. It was like home and sex all mixed together. He tried not to collapse on his mate as he spilled, the sudden slick sensation making each small rut even better than the last. He moaned breathlessly against the tattooed chest, murmuring the other's name as strong fingers pet through his hair.

 

“Is it good?” Geoff teased with a husky voice.

  
Ryan nodded as he tried to catch his breath, still moving as his dick slowly softened up. “You feel so good, love. You're always so tight and the way you milk my cock...no one's ever ruined me so quick.” He flicked his tongue across his husband's pierced nipple, the silver cool against his tongue. “It's almost ten years since I saw you across the street. I caught your scent and I _knew_ you were mine.”

 

“You fucking romantic,” Geoff griped, though the pulse of his still-hard cock between them gave away how much his husband's words turned him on. Ryan felt the twitch and he moaned shamelessly, dropping down between the older man's thighs and swiping his hot tongue up his cock, the tip dragging hard over the metal barbell peeking out of the tip. He worshiped the metal with firm licks until Geoff started whining. He cupped his squirming hips and looked up, two sets of dark blue eyes clashing.

 

There were moments like this, where their trust was tested and stretched.

 

The old human joke of a cannibal giving a blow job hit them at the same moment and they grinned wolfishly.

  
“No teeth, asshole.”

 

Ryan's mouth slid over his cock all at once, lips stretched wide over his mate's cock. He was as skillful at this as he was everything else. His agile tongue traced the plump head, pressing in the right spots, cheeks hollowed as he sucked just hard enough to make it near _perfect_. Geoff grabbed a handful of blonde hair and fucked into his mouth, groaning when he felt the younger man's throat open up.

 

“Not even choking,” Geoff grit out, heat spreading through his gut as he thrust hard up into the man's mouth, nothing but wet tightness meeting his aching cock. “I don't deserve you, Rye. Holy fucking shit.”

 

~~

 

Ryan was overly affectionate in the most adorable way as they walked back to the car. He kept nuzzling at the back of Geoff's neck, grabbing his hand and kissing it, fingers trailing all over his tattoos. It was sweet and he touched back, smoothing back golden hair and admiring the curve of his biceps. It was in moments like this that he remembered why he'd agreed to marry him, why they had lasted almost ten years so blissfully.

 

_God damn. We're in love like a couple of teenagers._

 

“You get dressed, love, I'll grab the girl,” Ryan offered, kissing his cheek.

 

Geoff popped the large trunk and lifted up the fake bottom. He started cleaning himself off with wet naps, getting most of it off so he didn't stain the inside of the car. He dumped the ruined cloths into a plastic bag to be thrown away later. Some of his clothes were neatly folded for spontaneous hunts like this. The entire set up was done by Ryan, he had no patience for it, and he was grateful as he slid the clean t-shirt over his head. Pants, boxers, socks, even shoes. _He's so anal_. Despite these risky trips, they had never been caught or suspect.

 

There was a _scritch_ of duct tape. Geoff looked over to see that Ryan had taken the blue tarp out of the trunk and wrapped the girl up in it. He was wrapping each section – head, chest, knees, feet – and after four circles he would tear the strip off with his teeth. The sight was undeniably masculine and the calculated set of his teeth, the strong tug to rip the material – Ryan stripped down to nothing but the blood of their kill and human disguise – it was pretty damn hot.

 

And the way he hefted the gift-wrapped kill up onto his shoulders with ease...

 

Geoff's cock gave a valiant twitch. Just another sign of old age.

 

Geoff got in the passenger seat and started the car, keeping the head lights off but turning the air conditioner on low. Their bodies would stay at a high temperature for a while with full bellies like this. He was looking forward the quiet night of bonding as they took turns storing the girl for later. It was one of his favorite parts of hunting with Ryan, the shared quiet moments where they indulged in their new modern form of flesh eating.

 

The car shook as the body was placed in the back and it was another minute or two before Ryan came into the driver's side in a fresh pair of clothes, most of the blood besides a few stains.

 

Ryan swept his hair back from his eyes, flipped on the headlights, and then turned the radio on to the Classic Rock station. “Ready to go?”

  
“Ready as dicks.”

 

~~

 

The used thin, disposable tarps for the kitchen. They were white and were easy to roll up and spray down with the hose. Geoff usually did it in the morning after their hunts while Ryan was at work and their neighbors were still asleep, the blood turning pink and sinking into the ground while he lazily munched on toast or finished his first cup of coffee.

 

And their knife collection was extensive.

 

Ryan went to work on the organs first, a light smile on his face as he carefully separated tissue and thick tubes to extract what he wanted. The way he delicately lifted out the girl's heart, the lump cradled gently between his gloved hands, was vastly different from the way he'd shredded the boy's heart with his fangs. Frosted containers were slowly filled, one by one, while the less desirable bits like the intestines and pancreas were lumped into one black container that they would dispose of later.

 

There was music playing from the living room, the sweet guitar solo of _Magic Man_ echoing around them.

 

Geoff took another long swig of beer, grinning when he saw how reverently his husband gazed at the smooth, pink kidneys he tugged out of the open cavity. “I'm serious about what I said earlier.”

 

“About what exactly?” Ryan inquired, placing the round organs together in their own container. They would have to be properly wrapped once he took what he wanted, but that would be done as Geoff took the prime meat cuts.

 

“We should get a pet,” Geoff clarified. “Maybe something to help us with chasing down these fuckers. We keep getting older but the prey stays young.”

 

“Are you saying we need help?”

 

“I'm saying that I need a trained hound or something.” He took a slug of beer. “I love making something great with the meat, I do. And getting my hands dirty will never get old. But the chasing – that's a young man's game.”

 

“Alright,” Ryan agreed after a little bit of contemplation, meticulously deflating each lung completely before stacking them on top of one another, “If you find something that catches your eye, we can come to an agreement. But if you feel strongly about having a potential meal running around the house, I can't stop you.” He contemplated getting his hammer so he could get a bit of brain for them to pan-fry. “I'm almost done here. Do you want to whip up a marinade while I finish?”

 

“Gladly,” Geoff replied, basking in the feel of wearing down his husband's patience.

 

Ryan slipped his surgical hammer and pick out of the tool roll he'd obtained during his brief stint in medical school. Too much work, too much fresh blood. He moved up the long island and studied their prey's head, wondering if he should mark a line to follow or just go by feel. Wide, dull brown eyes stared up at him like a fallen doe. She'd been dead for hours now but her stare was still wet, like she was going to cry at any moment.

 

“Don't look a me like that,” Ryan tisked, placing the pick just past her temple. “I killed you too quick to feel anything. You should be grateful. Your boyfriend didn't fare quite so well. Now hold still.”

 

~~

 

Across town, a hellhound pup crawled out of his window for the second time that week. The sound of his father's growls stung his sensitive ears. Still straddling the window sill, he covered his ears and whined to try and drown it out. His shoulder ached from the way the man had shook him, his cheek from the sharp backhand he'd delivered for trying to defend his mother. His brother certainly hadn't helped, the fucking coward. They couldn't afford to take him to the hospital again for any "accidental" injuries and he knew he couldn't stay and listen to his mother crying for one more minute. The phantom ache of a dozen broken bones and sprained wrists and stitched claw marks throbbed through his body. Even if he was quit he knew that if he stayed here much longer there would be a night where his father would forget himself and strike too hard, too deep, 

 

Michael hefted his book bag higher and climbed out the rest of the way, the fire escape groaning under his weight as he closed the window.

 

He'd find some way to survive on the streets. He always did.

 

* * *

 

**[Fanmix for The Story](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/99292802156/let-my-home-be-my-gallows-fanmix#notes) **

**[New Update Schedule](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/post/98123930496/most-frequently-asked-question-updates-and-for) **


	2. Michael Finds A Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mates meet Michael, the abused hellhound pup, and he's worse for wear. They take him in, feed him, clothe him, and finally introduce him to the true meat that he should have been eating for years. He finds a home.

** I put up a Halloween poll on my [blog ](http://emono-omae.tumblr.com/)and this was super surprisingly the winner?? So here it is, the next chap, and the next bit is porn. So I'm sorry for not delivering porn but I'm just so tired and this is all I could do. Gomen. There's no porn. BUT - I'm gonna work really hard the next couple days on Ghost AU with my B and hopefully we can crank those out for you because they both have porn (The Dan sequel and the Ryan/Dan/Micoo one) **

 

* * *

 

 

Michael stumbled out of the filthy bedroom and wiped the spunk from his lips. The fur on his ears had been ruffled by the older boy’s clumsy fingers and he hurried to smooth it along with his clothes. Feeling a little less rumpled, he propped himself up against the door frame to catch his breath and get a minute’s peace but the guy-who’s-name-he-already-forgot strolled out of the room and destroyed the moment.

  
  


“Here you go, kid.” Two twenties were shoved into the front pocket of his jeans, cheek patted. “See you when you get cold, Mikey.”

  
  


Michael snapped his fangs at the lupine hybrid but he was too drained for the action to have any kind of heat. He hadn’t eaten properly in three days and he was  _ starved _ . His blood usually ran hot but he felt like a flickering flame in the wind. He was exhausted from running and his life had dissolved into strung out halfway houses and abandoned buildings, run by shady old men who just wanted to “help” young kids off the street. Michael had seen first hand the kind of help these guys provided and he wasn’t interested in being an addicted, zombified strawberry on some old monster’s spare mattress.He’d rather blow a hundred runaways with better pickpocketing skills than him before he bounced on one old pervert’s dick and took his crank as payment.

  
  


Michael dug out the forty bucks and clutched them tightly. His stomach squeezed painfully and he almost doubled over. He was  _ so  _ fucking angry. He needed red meat and hot coffee, blood and heat to satisfy his hell blood. He would stumble to the nearest diner and fill his belly.

  
  


But first he needed to find a corner to rest in.

  
  


o0o0o0o

  
  


Strong, warm hands slid around his waist. Geoff hummed as his husband’s chest pressed against his back. He was wrist-deep in sudsy water as he rinsed their dinner dishes. The taste of good wine and rare steak was still on the back of his tongue. Ryan kissed the nape of his neck and he moaned happily.

  
  


“ Brilliant, as always.”  
  


“ You always enjoy my cooking.” He pushed back into the other man’s touch. “Must be why I married you.”

  
  


“And because I spoil you,” Ryan hushed, nipping at his pierced ear. “Speaking of spoiled - I got a tip on a crockpot.”

  
  


Geoff tilted his head curiously. “A new hunt?”  
  


“ Oh yes.”

  
  


o0o0o0o

  
  


Michael clenched his eyes shut as he felt the man’s cum splash deep inside him. It was a gut churning sensation and he gagged silently. A single tear leaked past his lashes and he hated himself for the sign of weakness. He slumped in relief when the human got off him, tails fluttering in exhaustion from being so roughly petted and tugged on. The pleased chuckle was ignored in favor of grabbing a wet wipe off the table. Michael turned away from the man and started to wipe off the spunk that had dripped on his thighs and was leaking out of his hole. The rim stung on contact and he reminded himself to prep better next time. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the first time - there wasn’t any blood or nearly as many tears. He’d stopped lamenting his innocence after the third trick and now it was just deep, sour disgust in his stomach for allowing himself to sink to a low that he’d sworn never to be at. 

  
  


“I got a friend outside,” the human offered. “ ‘Wanna make it another fifty?”

  
  


Michael tilted his heavy head. A hundred bucks for two sessions? That wasn’t just some red meat and Walmart shoes - that was a night at a cheap motel. A real bed. A shower. Cable TV. He could get clean,  _ truly clean. _ Maybe he could charge more if he didn’t have the stench of old sweat and jizz on him and his clothes. He let out a short, stilted breath.  _ Comfort _ . Just for a night, but more than he’d had in months. He couldn’t remember when he’d left home - three or four months. Too long. He’d tried to go back once but one look and even his mother didn’t want him.

  
  


A surprising numbness washed over him and he was nodding before he had truly made the decision. “Send him in.”

  
  


o0o0o0o

  
  


It was a noisy, rundown neighborhood. The chosen building was random and boarded up. If the stink of dirty teenagers wasn’t pouring out from between the planks one would’ve thought it was completely abandoned. There was a hidden door in the side alley that led inside, the entrance small and hidden behind a sheet of plywood. It was the only way in or out. Ryan had reported this after transforming and scouting the area, climbing the fire escape and peering in windows while hidden by the shadows.

  
  


“How many?” Geoff questioned, eyeing the small entrance. He had not yet transformed but his oversensitive nose was tuned in to all the young strays inside. 

  
  


“Eight, I believe,” Ryan shivered under the cold breeze. They’d left their jackets in the car down the street. They would be warm enough soon. “Four for each of us. I believe there’s only two humans. A ghoul girl, a half breed wolf, and I believe there’s a boy with traces of demon blood. All runaways with families who won’t come looking or orphans. A bunch of street rats, really. I’ve cased the place for a few weeks.”

  
  


“We’re doing our civic duty.” Geoff smirked, the first traces of red bleeding into his irises. “You give the best presents, Rye.”

  
  


“I just want to give you the best, you know that.” Ryan wrapped an arm around his shoulders and nuzzled briefly at his husband’s dark hair. “I hope these children will satisfy you.”

  
  


Geoff felt a wriggle of guilt in his stomach. He had been particularly melancholy lately and he knew it bothered his mate. Ryan was a fixer, a provider, and he’d been working on this little adventure for two weeks with the hope that he could sooth whatever had bothering him. It made Geoff feel selfish but there were no secrets between them. If he was feeling unsatisfied, even for an unknown reason, then he wasn’t going to hide it. It was what had kept them together over the years. Trust - it was something rare in their species.

  
  


“Are you ready?”

  
  


Geoff nodded, nails already sharpening. “Try not to gorge yourself, babe. I know how greedy you can get in the thick of things.”

  
  


Ryan chuckled lowly, taking a deep breath of his mate’s scent. It settled along his palette like thick wine. “I’ll try my best.” 

  
  


o0o

  
  


Michael should’ve known it was a matter of time before he’d lose control of the mess he’d made of his life. He should’ve upped his prices or tried to go home or anything in between but instead he was getting fucked for lunch money and he hated himself.

  
  


Again, Michael found himself alone in the room with a john strolling happy down the hall and a  handful of cash scattered on the floor. His mind quieted from a dull roar to a meek whimper as he finally let himself relax. The couple hits he’d taken off another boy’s joint had long worn off but his body still felt heavy. He rolled over and sprawled at the bottom of the bed, pawing weakly for his pants and boxers but they were just a little too far. His claws scraped the very edges but didn’t hook. He was too tired to care, too wrung out to do more than grunt. 

  
  


_ I deserve to rot here like the fucking trash I am _ . His ass throbbed and he whined, waiting impatiently for the rush of heat to come like it did when he healed. Being a bastard demon had its perks, though the more common monsters hated him with a passion. An outcast of the outcasts. He deserved to be here - used and forgotten in some shit abandoned building for the unwanted.

  
  


He needed a smoke. He was way too dramatic after he earned some quick cash. It’s just my body, not like any of them understand or give a shit about me.

  
  


A scream scorched up the hallway but was cut short at the swell, followed by a series of wet gurgles. Michael froze but his tails twined around each other in interest, tips flicking. He stared at the doorframe and the lush, coppery scent of blood tickled his nose. Tainted with that wet dog smell - lupine, like Matt, the one who had just fucked him.

  
  


A figure stepped into the doorway and his stomach bottomed out.  _ Oh Matt, you poor stupid bastard. You never stood a chance. _

  
  


It was a monster of the likes he’d never seen before. A long, drawn out form with unnaturally long, clawed fingers that were dripping in inky blood. It’s shoulders and hips and cheekbones looked sharp, standing out, but it was far from malnourished. Heavy muscle laced thickly across its thighs and chest, showing the raw it held. He assumed it was a male from the flat, broad chest and the faint bulge between heavy thighs. A golden swoop of hair. His eyes were haunting - shining and dyed a deep crimson and pale lips were splashed with blood that stained down his chin and throat. Fangs were made for shredding flesh and muscle, stained in gore.

  
  


Michael visibly shuddered, fingers curling tight in the sheets as true fear crept into his heart. Unnatural eyes, gaze as sharp as diamond, settled on him and he thought he would be sliced in half. A low growl escaped the creature and it stepped into the room with a wordless scowl, claws flexing. Michael’s instincts were screaming at him to run, to fight, to transform and give this monster a run for his money, but he stayed still. It was almost submissive the way he whined in the back of his throat and stared with such obvious terror, ears and tails flat.

  
  


The part of him that that had taken over earlier, the low of his subconscious that hoped one day one of these tricks would slit his throat or rip it out with their fangs, reared its ugly head. To die by such a predator wouldn’t be so bad. A bloody, quick death and be devoured into something bigger than himself, stronger. He didn’t want to die...but there were worse ways to go.

  
  


Then the choice was taken from him.

  
  


The creature moved with a swiftness that one wouldn’t expect from something his size. It was a blur of color and then he was picked up by the throat, long fingers feeling like steel as they curled around his throat and heaved him up off the bed. Michael sputtered wetly and kicked out but he was held well out of striking distance. He tried to suck in a breath but his throat was caving in, only the barest of wheezes getting through. Tails twirled wildly and his ears flicked around. Michael dug his claws into the creature’s arm and wrist but the skin wouldn’t give. It was tough, dimpling but not piercing, and his hope dwindled to nothing. Those bloody lips parted and those fangs gleamed with the promise of his end, with hunger to add his blood to the smears on his cheeks and neck. 

  
  


Michael’s mouth hung open to try and draw more breath, to maybe beg for his life, but there was no words that could squeeze past the iron grip on his throat. Desperation soaked him and his breaths thinned out, lungs shriveling up and burning white hot behind his ribs. He felt warm all over but there was no comfort of healing - just building agony.

  
  


“ _ Hey _ . Put him down.”

  
  


The world stopped on the head of a pin. Fingers loosened up and the first rush of breath made Michael horribly dizzy. He wasn’t dropped, just held now. He hoped he’d be able to speak again after being crushed like that. There was a fine tremble in his body as the flaming heat came back, swallowing him up from the inside out as his lungs struggled to heal, to inflate again after such a strain. 

  
  


“Why, exactly?” The voice was hoarse and some letters caught in a hiss. 

  
  


Michael gathered the last of his courage and looked over - heart punching up into his throat. There was a second male creature with shocking dark hair and the start of a beard. He too had long digits but the sharp angles within the blonde creature were softer on this darker one, he held more fat on him that padded his stomach and hips. It was...pretty. 

  
  


Michael sputtered as he thought of his executioners as attractive. 

  
  


“He’s a hellhound, Ryan.”

  
  


Those fingers tightened up again around his throat. “So?”

  
  


“ Hellhound meat is horrendously sulfuric.” The strange, dark haired creature actually  _ scoffed  _ and the human sound put some hesitant hope in him. He looked between them hesitantly, picking up on the intimate notes - their gazes, the timber of their voices, the way they almost instinctively leaned closer to each other. “We won’t even be able to soak it out.”

  
  


Michael let out a pathetic yip as the other creature approached him. He was wrestled out of ‘Ryan’s’ hand and put back onto the floor, the darker monster looming over him and cupping his shoulders. 

  
  


“Geoff!” Ryan protested, brow furrowed up. “We can’t just leave one of them alive. We’re kind of in the middle of something right now.”

  
  


“Oh shut up,” Geoff drawled. Michael stared with wide, frightened eyes as the creature started to pet him. A soothing, rough purr escaped the man as his tattooed fingers started smoothing wild cinnamon curls and over his cheeks, on his shoulders. That’s when Michael remembered he was still bare naked and a shameful flush washed over him. His tails swirled around and covered all across his hips, hiding him. Geoff’s bright scarlet eyes roamed over the appendages and he smiled, fangs peeking over his bloody lip. “Those are pretty, kid. Looks like you need a good bath and a home cooked meal.”

  
  


Michael frowned, ears laying flat. 

  
  


Geoff hummed thoughtfully, palms still laying on his shoulders. “Why don’t you come home with us, kid?

  
  


Michael whined in the back of his throat. “Shit.”

  
  


Geoff frowned suddenly and leaned down to start sniffing at him, smelling around his jaw and at his hair. The hellhound’s sulphuric scent had soured considerably with fresh fear and a heavy lace of desperation, disappointment, sick anticipation. It was a strange cocktail and it tugged at his heart. He scanned the floor. Lube, the pup’s clothes, and a crumpled wad of bills. The room stank of old sweat and musk, saline, the tang of weed and other drugs. He knew what this place was, what kind of kids flowed through here.  

  
  


“ Oh,” Geoff breathed out, looking over the kid again in a new light. Sympathy pulsed alongside his hunger and killed it. “We don’t want anything from you, not demanding anything. We-” Ryan’s small snarl cut him off and he flashed his teeth at his mate. “ _ I _ just want to help.”

  
  


Michael opened his mouth and his voice crackled roughly. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You just killed a dozen stray monster kids just like me.” 

  
  


“Well, we didn’t kill you, did we?”

  
  


Michael pursed his lips and tried to gather up your courage. “What are you?”

  
  


Geoff’s hands dropped and he watched in awe as the creature shrunk. Bones cracked and popped into new places, fangs retreating and scarlet eyes washing away to reveal a bright blue. Dark hair thinned and with a painful  _ snap  _ he seemed to change completely. In front of Michael stood a normal man covered in tattoos with a lazy smile and sleepy bruises under eyes that stole his breath in a new way.

  
  


“We’re like you. Monsters.”

  
  


Michael dropped to sit on the bed and frowned thoughtfully, staring down at the soft fur of his twin tails as they covered his modesty. 

  
  


“One night,” Geoff coaxed, looking almost painfully normal now. “That’s all I ask. Sleep in a clean bed, shower, and eat breakfast and then you can walk out. We won’t trap you or anything, you can leave whenever you want.”

  
  


The pup hesitated, tiny fangs raking over his raw lower lip.

  
  


Geoff tisked softly, feeling the heat of his mate’s gaze. “Let me put it another way. The police will be here within an hour. You need a safe place to hide and they won’t suspect us.”

  
  


Fear struck him in the chest and he visibly paled.

  
  


“So you could either stay here or grab your stuff and be safe with us.”

  
  


Michael glanced at the other creature, Ryan, and saw the displeasure there on his face. “You won’t kill me?”

  
  


“You can even barricade the door if you want.”

  
  


“Fuck,” Michael huffed.

  
  


“Manners,” Ryan hissed between his fangs. The hellhound drew back, legs tucking in, tails twitching. He swallowed thickly and lowered his eyes to the filthy carpet.

  
  


“Can I get dressed by myself?”

  
  


Feeling pleased with the little victory, Geoff nodded and dragged his outraged mate out of the room.

  
  


o0o

  
  


The car ride home was silent. Ryan drove with a pinched expression and a stare that didn’t leave the road, fingers curled tight on the steering wheel. They lived outside the city so it was a while alone with their thoughts and the radio. Geoff relaxed in the passenger seat, purring faintly with his full belly and the night air on his face. Unlike his mate, he considered the whole night a success. Every once in a while his eyes would stray to the rearview mirror to see their new charge.

  
  


Michael stayed curled up in the backseat with his bag in his lap and his gaze firmly on the two strange, shapeshifting creatures - waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  
  


The threat of arrest and the sound of sirens had driven the hellhound easily into their car. Maybe the boy could smell their innocent intent, could sense Geoff’s harmless intentions. But even if not, he was relatively safe, much more safe than he’d be on the street with hungry, roaming monsters waiting for sweet boys to be alone in dark alleys.

  
  


“What’s your name?” Geoff asked softly when they had hit the highway. 

  
  


The hellhound fidgeted against the faux leather, making it creak. “Michael.”

  
  


“Fitting. Named after someone? Your father maybe?”

  
  


The boy winced so hard it looked like it hurt. Geoff shut his mouth after that. 

  
  


They pulled up to the two story house that was on the edges of of an upper middle class suburban area. Neat laws and smooth sidewalks with fenced in yards, clean paint lines and the smell of old barbecues lingering in the grains of wood and blades of grass. Ryan pulled into the garage and had hardly turned off the car before Geoff put a hand on his arm.

  
  


“ Stay here for a minute.”  
  


“ What? Why?” Ryan snapped. He was positively bristling, feeling invaded in his one safe place with a hellhound pup breathing down the back of his neck.

  
  


“ I’m going to let him in first.”  
  


Ryan snorted. “You’re going to let the dog in so I have to sit in the car?”

  
  


Geoff snarled so loudly he flinched. His mate had never struck him before but in that moment Ryan was sure he would’ve been backhanded. 

  
“ Stop being a cunt and sit here while I show Michael inside.”

  
  


Ryan sneered but stayed still, obeying his mate. He could sense how serious Geoff was about this hellhound and he wasn’t about to bring out his love’s wrath. Ryan was already feeling irritated and maybe a tad bit pushed aside but he wasn’t going to give the other cannibal a reason to break out the real anger. 

  
  


Geoff got out of the car and opened the back door, gently encouraging Michael out as well. The pup scurried out, bag clutched tight to his chest. He walked Michael up to the door and he took his time getting out his keys, the boy watching him closely, ready to bolt.

  
  


“You’ll have the upstairs to yourself, we won’t bother you,” Geoff promised. “I’ll bring you food and anything else you need. We usually try to get into bed around ten and we won’t intrude too much. Upstairs bathroom for you for now, downstairs one for us.” His expression softened considerably and Michael felt his guard fall. “You can leave whenever you want but hopefully only after you have a place to stay. Hate to think of you on the streets again.”

  
  


Michael said nothing. Geoff unlocked the door and pushed it open, unsurprised when the pup bolted inside. He watched and listened as Michael got on all fours and made a perimeter run, brushing against every window and door before circling around and bounded up the steps. The rooms up there were bumbled into, the pup building a proper mental map before the guest room was found. A door slammed shut and Geoff felt it was safe to let his fuming mate out of the car.

  
  


o0o

  
  


Geoff poured himself another shot with a sigh. Ryan had several pots on the stove, cooking up veggies and two sauces to be put into tupperware for their lunches. The younger cannibal was loudly hacking up one of girls they’d taken from the abandoned building - a goat hybrid that had smelled particularly savory. Ryan’s handsome face was set in a permanent scowl and a heavy brow.

  
  


“You’re pouting,” Geoff drawled, thumb rubbing over the wet rim of the glass. “It doesn’t suit you.”

  
  


Ryan grunted and took a cleaver to a bone, clopping it in two. 

  
  


“For fuck’s sake,” Geoff muttered before taking the shot in one go, scowling a little before refilling the glass. “I thought you’d be thrilled to help someone out, do some damn good in this world.”

  
  


He could almost taste the growl Ryan wanted to spill out as he thumped the cleaver into the old cutting board, making it stick. “I did  _ not  _ agree to this.”

  
  


“You’re not happy?” Geoff hissed out, nails threatening to sharpen into claws as he tapped them against the side of the shot glass. 

  
  


Ryan breathed out loudly and it was all he needed to know.

  
  


“ Well too fucking bad. I want him here and he’s going to stay until he has somewhere better to go.” He threw back the whiskey without a wince this time. “You’re going to have to get over it.” He started to get up but paused. “And he’s  _ not  _ a meal. Don’t forget that.”

  
  


o0o

  
  


Michael woke up with a snort. The world registered in one unpleasant sensation after another. His mouth felt like sandpaper, dried out, and his tongue peeled off the roof of his mouth. He felt rough from his teeth down into his lungs, a thirst hitting him like a deep punch. It came alongside a creeping hunger that felt like it would consume him. He cleared his throat and it hurt so badly he thought he’d torn something.

  
  


He took internal inventory and it was all ache.

  
  


His bag was still packed and tucked under the foot of the bed. He was still in his shoes, ready to run at the first hint of danger. He knew he’d slept deeply but he was sure he hadn’t heard even a footstep outside his door all night.  _ Not my door. I’m just here to snag some breakfast and I’m gone. _

  
  


He sat up and winced at how grimy he felt. The room was spotless and clean in shades of greys and blues, smelling like mint and old laundry soap. He didn’t need a sensitive nose to know he was almost rancid with stale jizz and sweat. His stomach cramped up and he added food to the list of things he was in desperate need of.

  
  


Michael stretched and warmed his muscles up a little before he plopped out of bed. He crawled across the soft carpet and put his ear to the door, listening intently. There was nothing out there, nothing he could call dangerous. Some light movement and a TV but it was downstairs, nonthreatening. He cracked open the door and was glad to find it unlocked, swinging it inside and revealing a pile of things. There was a stack of clean clothes that looked roughly his size and protein bars of several flavors stacked on them. Pajamas and jeans and a few t-shirts. They smelled like fabric softener and were still a little warm when he touched them. There were two thick towels underneath them. 

  
  


There was also a notecard with loopy, lazy writing on it.  ‘ _ If you want hot food, just bark.’ _

  
  


Michael chewed his lip thoughtfully before gathering it all up and putting it in the room, taking the towel for his own. No matter what, he needed a shower. He scurried to the bathroom and locked himself inside, listening at the door for a few minutes before deeming it safe. The bathroom was nice, nicer than any he’d ever been in before, and the water ran clear and hot. He tossed his clothes in the trash and eagerly jumped into the shower. The steam felt cleansing and the soap smelled like herbs.

  
  


For a moment he thought he may have been getting seasoned. He had no proof that those creatures ate the other strays and with one lick he tasted nothing but base soap. 

  
  


He soaked up nearly an hour’s worth of shower time, letting the grime and shame swirl down the drain. He scrubbed himself until it almost hurt and his tails twitched from oversensitivity. Michael got out and wrapped himself up in the towel, checking the hall before hurrying back to the guest room. He shut himself inside and dried off, ears and tail fluffing as his natural heat flared up. Steam swirled briefly around him as the water drops evaporated. He picked through the clothes and almost upt on some jeans, some outside clothes, but at the last second he changed his mind. 

  
  


The blue pajamas were soft and he felt like he could melt into them.

  
  


Still being careful, Michael cracked open the door and eased out again. He didn’t get up on his feet so he half-crawled over to the steps where he crouched, freshly cleaned tails swirling around each other nervously. He wet his lips, fangs catching the light, and looked all over the bottom floor. The creatures seemed to be busy in the kitchen. They hadn’t hurt him in the middle of the night, had given him packaged food, and nothing smelled off about the clothes or the room like it had been laced with something. 

  
  


There was no ill intent in the whole house, or so it seemed. 

  
  


Michael woofed very softly and waited. There was an almost curious noise from one of the creatures so he yipped. The house was quiet for a few long moments and he considered bolting out the door right then. 

  
  


“Do you like sausage?” The voice startled him. 

  
  


“Yes,” he replied much too quietly, clearing his throat to try again. “Yes.”

  
  


“ Good. Be up in, like, twenty.” The voice paused.  _ Geoff _ . “Do you want soda or OJ?”

  
  


“O-Orange juice,” Michael’s voice cracked and he could feel a blush on his cheeks. He was so embarrassed he had to run back into the room and close the door, flicking the lock. The creatures were strong, he wasn’t sure it would stop them, but it would give him a chance to run to the window. His tails thumped in an awkward rhythm on the carpet as he waited, crouched, ears perked.

  
  


The smell of food hit first, then the noises. Someone - the creature, Geoff, with the notes of leather to his scent - was coming up the stairs. Michael held his breath as the other got close to the door and set something down. He lingered for a little bit, moving things around, and then left. Michael counted to sixty before unlocking the door and peeking out. 

  
  


There was a tray of hot food there. Sausage, eggs, toast with butter, a slice of french toast with a heavy drizzle on it, and a tall glass of orange juice along with a mini water bottle. Beside the tray was a red beanie, holes cut into the top, and a notecard laying on it. He picked it up and read it over, surprise registering on his face. 

  
  


‘ _Try the hat. I know hellhound’s need a lot of heat. The house is shit insulated. It gets cold. - G’_

  
  


Michael dragged the tray inside and once the door was locked he wiggled the hat on. It took a moment but his ears popped in and the slits that had been cut fit snugly around them. He wiggled them and it was actually comfortable, and the yarn was thick and soft. He loved it instantly.

  
  


He wanted to say thank you but couldn’t bring himself to open the door again.

  
  


o0o0o0o

  
  


Michael didn’t leave that day, or the next, or the one after that. The creatures, Ryan and Geoff, kept their distance and kept providing him with untainted food along with fresh clothes. He spent the first week just sleeping and eating, playing on his phone, and checking the virtual papers for any sign of his name among the small mentions of the slaughtered kids in the abandoned building. Bloggers had chalked it up to werewolves but the men he was technically living with were definitely  _ not  _ lupine.

  
  


After a week, Ryan’s hackles had softened, and he found himself getting used to their secret pet. He started cooking up enough for a third and mentioning Michael by name, even delivering his meals up to his room so the pup could feel more comfortable.

  
  


Michael had been with them for two weeks before Ryan sought out his mate in the garden and knelt in the dirt with him. 

  
  


“What do you want to do with him?”

  
  


Geoff frowned, brows knitting up over pink sunglasses. “What do you mean?”

  
  


“Do you want to hurt him?” Ryan asked bluntly, tired of not knowing. “Do you have an ulterior motive with him? Are you fattening up a special mean or…?”

  
  


“ No,” Geoff scoffed harshly looking disgusted. “ _ God _ , no. I just want Michael safe. I want to get to know him.”

  
  


Ryan hummed lowly. “Introduce him to  _ real  _ meat?”

  
  


“That,” Geoff conceded. “And - I want to know why someone who couldn’t be more than nineteen is on the street selling himself for petty cash.”

  
  


Ryan snarled so suddenly that it startled the other cannibal. “ _ What _ ?”

  
  


Geoff dug his spade into a mound of rich earth. “That’s what they were doing. That place was a drug den, and he was whoring himself for ones. He was starving, Rye, I could smell it on him. The kid needs food,  _ real  _ food. He’s a hellhound for fuck’s sake, they burn insane amounts of energy and have high temperatures to maintain. That kid should’ve had milk bottles laced with blood, fed cheeks and thighs growing up. I don’t know what his parents were thinking but he’s malnourished. He’s suffering, I can almost taste it when he breathes. I bet you could count his ribs.

  
  


Ryan nodded. “Hellhounds are like us. They need human.”  
  


“ I don’t know if his family were shitty vegetarians or what, but that kid has  _ never  _ had what he needed.” Geoff scowled deeply. “You can tell by his coloring if nothing else. Kid shouldn’t be that pale.”

  
  


Ryan pursed his lips and swallowed down another growl. “Neglectful bastards. Not feeding your son what he needs to be healthy, forcing animal meat down his throat or worse.” He closed his eyes and he saw Michael’s pale face and sunken cheeks. “Do you think they put their hands on him? Neglect and abuse are never too far from each other.”

  
  


“Maybe,” Geoff tisked, fangs showing themselves briefly past his sneering lips. “There’s no where on Earth they’d be able to hide if I found out they did.”

  
  


o0o0o0o

  
  


Geoff didn’t bother to hide the smell of his fresh kill as he butchered him. A fit young man, a night jogger turned down a wrong path, one whose remains would never surface again. He took a cleaver and several of their best knives to the body, even breaking out the rib spreader to get to all the lush, healthy organs. He had prepared several sauces before he’d gone out, taken leave while Ryan napped and Michael occupied himself in his room.

  
  


Not for long, if he had a say in it.

  
  


Geoff arranged an array of plates on a large, silver serving tray before he started putting together his feast. Some organs he sliced and others he cubed, pairing them with light drizzles of sauce or just a splash of citrus to keep everything tasting fresh. Hardy strips of raw meat were laid out nicely with nothing but fresh ground cayenne and a sprinkle of sesame seeds. Everything perfect, arranged, every plate a treat in itself. 

  
  


Already hearing Michael fussing around upstairs, stirred by the scent, Geoff hefted up the tray (along with a cold beer) and took it into the living room. He sat his bounty on the coffee table before plopping down on the couch. He turned the TV on and flipped channels for a minute or two before settling on the news. 

  
  


Geoff’s hands flexed and there was a fleshy sound before his nails thickened and grew out to claws. With a rough purr, he dug into the nearest plate of rib meat. Claws and knuckles stained with blood as he let himself gorge, filling his empty stomach with all the rich, bloody protein he needed. He had nearly polished off the plate when the ravenous feeling had died down and he noticed some movement. He looked over his shoulder and saw Michael crouched at the bottom of the steps, clutching the banister bars and staring at him with wide eyes.

  
  


Geoff smiled warmly, voice husked. “Hey buddy.”

  
  


“ Geoff?” Michael’s voice was soft. The hellhound was bundled up in sweats and a hoody, the beanie, trying to seek warmth because his body didn’t have the proper fuel to keep him comfortable. “What are you doing?”  
  


“ Having some dinner,” Geoff replied softly. “Would you want to join me? Or do you want to wait, and I can make you some sandwiches?”

  
  


Michael shook his head. The pup had softened so much in two weeks, become at home in their house. Geoff would wake up and there were signs that Michael had done dishes or laundry, picked up things, folded clothes, rearranged the fridge, cleaned, a whole bunch of little things to show appreciation. Every night he would fall asleep wondering if Michael would be gone the next day but he’d been pleasantly surprised so far. After the first week, he’d given the pup his number, and since then he’d received a simple goodnight text from him, easing the fear of him rushing out in the middle of the night.

  
  


Michael snuffled, tiny fangs peeking out from his lip. “Can I have some of that?”

  
  


Geoff hid his delight, claws flicking pointedly at the spread. “Some of this?”

  
  


The pup nodded, nails that would barely be called claws scratching at the decorative bars, chipping white paint. “Yeah.”

  
  


“Then come here.”

  
  


Michael was hesitant in his movements, nose twitching as he huffed the heavy scent of human blood and spices. He walked upright at first but as he got closer to the couch he dropped to all fours, peering curiously at the full tray, eyes narrowed.

  
  


“Come here.” Geoff crooked a finger at him. This was the closest they’d been but the moment would be intimate and he wanted to be there when Michael gave into the hunger. “Let’s get something substantial in your belly.”

  
  


Michael frowned but drew in a sharp breath when the man patted his lap, indicating he should sit there. “What…?”

  
  


He gestured at the plates. “This is meat I hunted down myself. And you only get to eat it from my hand, at least this time.”

  
  


Michael’s mouth dropped open as it all really clicked into place. “What are you?”

 

Geoff grinned and it was all fangs. “What do you think, smart pup?”

  
  


The boy swallowed thickly, hunching in on himself. “Cannibals…”

  
  


“Good boy.” He tisked sharply. “Now come up here. You must be hungry.”

  
  


Michael was sure he was supposed to feel a wave of fear then but his chest was full of something lighter, warmer. He stared up at the man that had treated him better than his father ever had - who had protected him from the wrath of the police, the streets, who had opened his home and given him food and clothes. His caretaker. Michael was starstruck at the cannibal in front of him, the powerful man who he suddenly trusted. 

  
  


Geoff could have killed him any time but he’d chosen not to. That was more than most people had done for him.

  
  


Michael crawled up and into the man’s lap, hesitantly straddling him. He expected Geoff’s hands to fall on him but he only smiled that lazy smile, shifting a little and tugging the coffee table closer. “Comfy?”

  
  


Michael nodded truthfully, side-eyeing the plates. 

  
  


Geoff picked up a cube of liver and held it up between his fingers. “Here you go, hungry boy.”

  
  


Michael hesitated. His head gradually tipped to the side, lashes falling low as he stared at the organ meat. It was a pretty shade of dark purple mixed with grey and had something like soy sauce lightly dripping from it. He leaned forward, breathing out through his nose before giving in and closing the distance. 

  
  


Geoff sighed happily as a fire-hot tongue curled between his digits and took in the chunk of meat. “Do you like it?”

  
  


Michael started to chew and his eyes rounded out almost comically fast. Salty, tangy, creamy -  _ pure iron. _ bloody, still an echo of life left in the cells as he sliced it between his teeth. He could feel it slide down into his stomach and there was a pulse of  _ something  _ inside him. His whole body stirred and he could only stare at Geoff in wonderment. 

  
  


“ Yes.”

  
  
“ You know what it is?”

  
  
Michael lapped at his lips. “ _ Human _ .”

  
  


“There you are,” Geoff purred roughly, taking up another chunk. Michael eagerly closed his mouth around his fingers, swallowing the hunk of liver and licking his skin clean. That mouth was soft and impossibly warm but he managed to pull his hand away to snatch up a thin slice of thigh meat. Michael yipped hungrily, seizing his wrist to hold him still while he chomped into the sparsely spiced, bloody meat. 

  
  


“ Don’t eat  _ me _ , pup,” Geoff laughed.

  
  


Michael visibly relaxed, fingers dropping from the man’s wrist while he flicked his tongue over his rough thumb. He dared to glance at Geoff, color starting to bleed out of his eyes to be replaced with inky tendrils. “ ‘M sorry, Geoff. It’s good.”

  
  


Geoff plucked up a thicker strip of thigh meat. “Have more.”

  
  


He fed him more, piece by piece, and Michael was almost glowing as he happily devoured it all. He was careful not to cut the man’s fingers but he did come close, licking firmly to get every drop of flavor. Iron and protein and pure life sliding over his tongue. It pumped fresh heat into him, blood lighting up for the first time in his life. He felt true heat strike up in his belly as he devoured each piece that Geoff held for him, lapping up blood and sauce and sucking on rough digits to dig the taste out of his fingerprints. 

  
  


Michael started to pant, overheated, and he had to sit back to paw at the edge of his hoodie. “Can I…?”  
  


Geoff’s smirk was predatory. “Of course.”

  
  


Michael ripped off his hoody and his beanie fell off in the struggle. He couldn’t catch his breath and he felt like fire was licking at him from the inside out but he wasn’t sweating. He’d eaten two plates by himself but he was still hungry, wanted more. “Can I have more too? It tastes so fucking good and it’s - I can’t explain it. I  _ need _ .”

  
  


Michael whined in the back of his throat, tails wagging and swirling prettily behind him.

  
  


“You don’t have to beg, you can have all you want,” Geoff promised, palming a heavy chunk of kidney. Michael cupped the back of his hand and ate out of his palm, meat slicing easily under his sharp teeth. Geoff rumbled proudly as the boy lapped up the scraps left on his skin, blood swirling in artful patterns around his soaked tongue. He fed the pup belly fat wrapped in strips of lung like tiny presents and they were swallowed down hardly without chewing. 

  
  


“ _ These  _ are a real treat, eat them slower,” Geoff demanded as he took up a smaller plate and laid them on the couch beside him. Michael stared with blatant glee at the plate. Two semi-round disks of plump flesh sprinkled in powdered sugar. “Cheeks. They’re tender, some of the best bites.”

  
  


Michael’s mouth dropped open and he tried not to drool on himself, blood smeared along the side of his lips. Geoff took one of the cheeks between his fingers and held it up. Michael was careful as he took a bite of it, making sure not to tear or swallow too fast. It was like sweet butter on his tongue, melting across his teeth. He moaned obscenely as his mouth fill with the rich taste and he felt boneless on top of Geoff.

  
  


“Is it good, Michael?” Geoff rumbled, more giddy than he had been in a while as he watched the boy’s eyes roll back into his head and bleed black. Michael was all energy in his lap, writhing in delight, and he couldn’t help but get off on it. The hellhound was gorgeous - young, but so vibrant, so open, and finally reaching his full potential. He was gorgeous, brimming with life, and Geoff wanted to sup from it. 

  
  


“Please,” Michael whimpered, tongue sliding wetly over his fangs.

  
  


Geoff nodded and smiled when the rest of the cheek was eaten with savoring slowness. “That’s my boy. Want the other? Of course you do.”

  
  


Michael didn’t need to be told again to go slow. He took each bite with reverence and kept making soft noises of enjoyment. Once it was all gone, he took Geoff’s hand and sucked his fingers clean one at a time. The cannibal squirmed as he watched those blood stained lips slide over his fingers, wetting his tattoos, pretty cheeks hollowing as he dragged back up. 

  
  


“Beautiful,” Geoff breathed, his own fangs showing themselves as his guise started to fade. Crimson-soaked eyes met inky black and the pup managed to flush more darkly. 

  
  


From the hallway, claws scraped roughly against plaster as Ryan stood half-hidden by corner wall, watching intently as his mate fed the hellhound. He gaped dumbly as the scene unfolded in front of him. He wondered if it was jealousy brewing in his gut but he found it was pure, unadulterated lust along with a strange, underlying fondness that flirted dangerously with the sensation he had felt the first time he saw Geoff kill. The pup had been growing on him but gone was the shy, beaten boy and here was a killer - fluid,  _ alive _ . No longer a ghost that haunted their upstairs and not a pup to be fed scraps but the makings of a great man, a true monster. A killer.

  
  


And Ryan wanted to lick him up. 

  
  


Geoff dug into the plate of plump calf muscle that were sliced up like sashimi, pretty and bright and feeling so fit in his fingers. He went to take a bite and Michael growled at him, snapping his fangs like he was starving still. He swallowed down the whole slice, letting it slither down his throat before he flashed fang. Michael yelped as he was smacked on the cheek, It startled him more than anything but he had bloody finger marks left behind, not even a palm in the strike. 

  
  


“Don’t growl at me,” Geoff hissed, seizing the pup’s chin to knock that shocked look off his face. “I’ll give you everything you could want but you have to be good. Being bad means mistakes and we can’t afford those.”

  
  


“Or what?” Michael barked back, flashing pink-stained fangs. “You’ll kill me? Throw me away?”

  
  


“No,” Geoff bit out, pinching his chin. “I won’t fix you good food like this. Blood only, fried skin. And animal meats.” 

  
  


Michael gaped, the anger leaving his face in one wash. He sputtered softly as the man’s fingers fell from his face, stomach twisting in confusion and sick hope. “You won’t...kick me out?”

  
  


Geoff tisked. “No, neer. Not as long as you want to be here.”

  
  


Michael fidgeted nervously, thighs clenching up against the man. Geoff was surprised when the pup’s hands dropped into his lap, fingers teasing over the waistband of his jeans, fluttering shyly but full of such unvoiced yearning. “And to punish me…?”

  
  


Geoff raked his eyes over the hellhound. The body language was so hungry for something other than the meat. Searching hands and head tilted, showing off his throat, chest open and thighs parted, and the arch of his body - it was wanting. Michael was young but not obscenely. He felt dirty with how his cock started to plump up just staring at those pale, freckled arms and the childish (but surprisingly well done) tattoos on his forearms and the pure hellfire heat that was now pouring off him and bleeding through two layers of clothing. 

  
  


He saw the chance and took it. “I’ll spank you.”

  
  


Michael’s eyes finally bled out to a pure obsidian and he moved fast, striking out, claws glinting dangerously. Geoff only felt a tinge of fear before the back of his head was grabbed and he was dragged into a fierce kiss full of teeth. Lips were sliced in the passion and Geoff had to take control quickly, getting over his surprised pleasure to take the pup by the nape and jaw to slow it down. Michael went liquid under his hands, following his lead, tilting his head to the side. He moaned wetly as Geoff coaxed his mouth open, twin blood-smeared tongues meeting and sliding wetly as they drank up the taste of the other.

  
  


Michael’s blood was spiced like cinnamon. 

  
  


Geoff tasted mulled, dry like wine.

  
  


Both wanted to bite and lick and they ate at each other’s mouths without truly giving in. There were sill plates to devour without hurting one another. They lost themselves in the lust of the moment, Michael sliding closer so he could rut against the other monster, grinding his half-hard cock against the growing bulge he could feel through denom. Geoff’s blood fingers smeared over his sides and up to his chest, soaking in his heat.

  
  


“Fuck,” Michael rasped against his mouth as those rough palms finally made it down to his thighs, cupping them. He rolled his hips against Geoff and hissed at the delicious friction. It had been so long since he’d wanted someone to touch him, had enjoyed and got all riled up from the thought…

  
  


A low whine hit their ears and Geoff pulled away, frowning. “Ryan?”

  
  


The younger cannibal was shuffling toward them, the blue bled out of his eyes. For a moment Geoff thought he was upset but there was nothing but desperate lust and love written all over his handsome face. Michael whimpered in fear and ducked his head, scrambling off Geoff’s lap and kneeling between his legs instead.

  
  


“ I’m so sorry.” Michael shuddered in fear as Ryan dropped down to kneel beside him. “He’s your mate. I-I wasn’t trying to do anything, I shouldn’t have -  _ fuck _ .”

  
  


Michael dissolved into pathetic whimpers as Ryan cupped his nape and tilted his head. The man started to lick at his blood stained skin, nipping softly in places to make him twitch. He laved heavily across his pulse to feel it thud under his tongue, rumbling in the back of his throat. It was true, Geoff was his mate, that would never change, but he could feel his heart warming for the hellhound. It was too many emotions too fast but when he kissed him, chaste and sweet, he felt the electricity pass between them. 

  
  


It was the start of something he couldn’t put a name on.

  
  


“Rye, baby, you hungry too?” Geoff asked quietly, plucking up one of the heavy, cold chunks of heart. Ryan nodded, fangs already out. “Come here then.”

  
  


o0o

  
  


With an empty serving tray, Geoff took Michael to the kitchen and passed by the cracked open corpse to have the pup sit on the counter. He washed the blood off Michael and the boy stared openly at the dead body surrounded by a clear tarp, eyes blank and staring at the ceiling and a gaping mouth where a tongue had once been. 

  
  


“ Who was he?”  


  
“ Unfortunate.”

 

Michael was obediently pliant as Geoff moved his head side to side, wiping him with a rag. “How many…?”  
  


“ Too many to count,” Geoff answered simply. “We have a way of doing things, Michael. If you stay, you’ll learn.”

  
  


Michael was sent to bed while Geoff and Ryan stayed up late carving and storing the rest of the corpse for consumption and easy disposable. The pup had dreams that night of staying in the kitchen and gnawing on bones and stealing fleshy scraps while the mates worked their magic.

  
  


o0o0o0o

  
  


Michael got called down to dinner two days later. It wasn’t a first but it was the first time he accepted. He put on a fresh pair of jeans and a plain shirt, fussing in front of the mirror with his hair, cursing how long it had gotten. He debated the beanie but it didn’t look right with a blue shirt so he just tried to brush his mane as well as he could before giving up and leaving. 

  
  


A full dinner was getting piled from pots into serving dishes and put on the table by a graceful Ryan, strong hands steadying several heated dishes and carrying them with ease. Geoff was still in a flurry of movement to keep the grilled peppers from burning and the meat from drying up as he gave it a quick sear on the griddle. 

  
  


Michael sat down at the table and fussed uselessly, unsure if he should help or go back to his room. His ears flicked and his cheeks colored up, hands twisting in his lap, and he only stopped when Ryan set a plate in front of him. Silverware and a cloth napkin followed. Michael dared to look up and usually icy blue eyes were surprisingly warm, peering at him curiously. He tried to look away but his jaw was gently taken to tilt his head back up.

  
  


“How are you?” Ryan asked with sobering sincerity. 

  
  


“I’m good,” he replied quietly.

  
  


“Is there anything special you need?”

  
  


Michael’s mouth opened and closed lamely as he struggled to figure out what that meant.

  
  


“Books you like? Colors you prefer?” Ryan clarified. “Do you need a lamp? What kind of games do you prefer?”

  
  


“I…” Michael faltered but decided denying he needed anything would only piss Ryan off. “I like the dark but not a lot. I really like old horror books, and Scifi. Red, and, uh, RPG stuff sort of? I don’t know. It’s been a while since I’ve played anything.”

  
  


Ryan nodded and didn’t say anything else about it.

  
  


o0o

  
  


Geoff dragged Michael on a grocery trip and it felt good to be outside, to go for a ride in the car, but the other monster was way too happy the entire time. Thick, pink framed sunglasses hid the mirth in his eyes but his smile was too big and devious. There was nothing malicious about it so after his questions got brushed off he decided to just enjoy the fresh air and the normalcy.

  
  


“Did you go shopping a lot with your parents?” Geoff asked near the fruits as Michael tried to figure out how to tap a melon.

  
  


“Nah.” He set the cantaloupe down in favor of a smaller one. “At least, I can’t remember it. They didn’t really like doing family stuff. They liked it better when I stayed out of sight.”

  
  


Geoff frowned. “You don’t have to stay in your room all the time, Michael. We won’t hurt you.” He sighed and plucked up a bag of salad mix. “Hell, if you want to leave, we can start working on that. Start getting you supplies and stuff.”

  
  


Michael thought about it and his stomach soured. “No. I-I’m good here, if you’re okay with that. No reason to run off...I’ll try to come out of my room more.”

  
  


“Whatever you’re comfortable with. Grab some carrots, okay?”

  
  


o0o

  
  


They got back from the store and Geoff saddled the pup with most of the grocery bags. Michael easily carried them but his nose twitched as he smelled the faint scent of strangers in the house. Just two but it still agitated him. Geoff didn’t say anything so he tried to let it go. He helped Geoff put all the stuff away in their proper places while the man told him about how he was planning a grilling, backyard bbq party for some of their friends and that Michael was more than welcome to come to it. The hellhound considered it and perked up when he mentioned there’d be a few boys his age there.

  
  


“What is this, a playdate?” 

  
  


“Shut up and go change into some of those janky clothes I got you. I wanna’ show you the garden.”

  
  


Michael hurried up the stairs. Geoff had talked fondly about his home grown herbs and tomatoes and he was excited to see it. He threw open his door and took two steps before freezing. 

  
  


It was vastly different than when they’d left two hours ago. The bookshelves that had been empty were stocked full now with books of all sizes - comics, paperbacks, even a few anatomy books. The bed had been switched out for a larger one and the bedding was new in various shades of red with thin black pinstripes on the comforter. The pillows were plump and everything looked so soft. He dragged his eyes away from it and saw a new entertainment center up against the wall. A nice sized flat screen was there along with what looked like an Xbox - not new, but good. He could see games stacked up on the shelf and some of them looked like DVDs. His heart picked up a nervous, happy rhythm and he dared himself to believe this might be his.

  
  


The dresser drawer was cracked open so he walked over and pulled it open. There weren’t a ton of clothes but there were more in there than his small stack. He kept pulling open drawers and there were more things - neatly folded shirts and jackets, shorts, sweats, a whole drawer of jeans, socks, underwear, even a few more beanies. 

  
  


Michael’s lip wobbled and his heart ached from how sweet the gesture was. There was a cardboard box on the dresser and he peeked inside to see a beat-up DS box and a small stack of games. Zelda, Mario, so RPG adventure games he recognized from scrolling online. He choked down a pathetic noise and pushed away, suddenly overwhelmed. 

  
  


Then he spotted it. Against the wall on the far side of the bed, innocent and dull at the moment, there was a flame night light. Not cartoony but made of blown glass, elegant, contained. 

  
  


His heart and he had to wipe his eyes.

  
  


“Do you like it?”

  
  


Michael turned towards the man standing in the door - lip raw from chewing and big arms crossed tight in a defensive stance. He looked hesitant and somehow smaller. Probably the fiercest killer that Michael had ever seen and he was being...adorable. 

  
  


“ Ryan, I love it,” Michael admitted. “You didn’t have to. Fucking shit, man, it’s more than…”  _ More than I had before. More than my dad ever gave me. _

  
  


“It’s all completely yours, if you want,” Ryan stated, and the pup believed him. “And you can stay until you get sick of us. We don’t mind the company.”

  
  


“ Yeah,” Michael replied awkwardly. “I, uh...would like that. A lot, actually.”  
  


“ So would we,” Ryan promised, looking out of place as he shifted his weight. They didn’t have the bond that Michael had developed with Geoff but there was potential for it. The memory of their kiss hung between them. Michael wondered what the other monster would do if he kissed him right then but decided not to push. His stomach was tied up in painful knots.

  
  


“I don’t deserve this. Any of this.”

  
  


“You do, Michael. You’re gotten the short end of the stick in life.”

  
  


“ I’ve sold myself, you know,” Michael admitted weakly, thinking of those hungry kisses. “Let other strays do stuff to me on the cheap. I’m literal trash, Ryan. You and your mate don’t need people like me around. This place you have, this life you’ve built…” He felt his trails swishing low, ears twitching. “You can pass. I’m the filth that will get you guys caught.”  
  


“ You won’t,” Ryan swore with surprising ferocity. “We’ll make sure of it.”

  
  


“You have a good thing going.” He chewed his lip, fangs catching on the delicate skin. “Don’t let me ruin it, Ryan. Don’t let me hurt Geoff.”

  
  


There was a hint of red in that stormy blue gaze now. “I won’t.”

  
  


Michael strangely felt relieved.

  
  


Ryan visibly relaxed and so did the pup. “So...dinner is in an hour. I’ll give you some money if you want to run down to the bakery and pick up some desserts.”

  
  


Ryan fished out his wallet and held out a twenty. Michael walked up and took the bill but the other didn’t let go. Ryan’s face was deceptively soft and his heart fluttered, a small noise escaping him. The man leaned in and Michael was given the sweetest kiss he could remember receiving - soft, gentle, brief. Just a meeting of lips, a kiss that was a small goodbye but with the promise of seeing him soon.

  
  


“Keep the change, get something with cherries.” Ryan let go of the bill and rubbed his thumb over the pup’s cheek. “Be safe.”

  
  


“ I will,” Michael promised, voice a little choked up. He darted away from Ryan but stopped at the top of the stairs, tails twining gracefully. “I’ll be back, I promise. You didn’t scare me away.”

  
  
Ryan visibly relaxed and gave a nod. “Okay, good. Geoff would kill me if I did.”

  
  


Michael flashed him a blindingly gorgeous smile before running off down the steps, eager to pick up a coffee to celebrate the new chapter of his life.

  
  
  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is everything to me. I worked so hard on this and there was no porn but I really am such a needy thing who needs heat pats


End file.
